


Can't Be Too Happy

by Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel), Constructed Reality, Established Relationship, False Memories, Fluff and Angst, Heaven, Heaven & Hell, M/M, Mindfuck, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Psychological Drama, Redemption, Slow Burn, Trans Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29785263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts/pseuds/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts
Summary: Everything was perfect. Angel is happy, or he should be. He has a nice life, an easy job, and a charming husband... So why does he feel like he's losing his mind?
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

Golden light filtered in through open curtains. They had fallen asleep on the couch, both having spent the night there watching a box set of I Love Lucy. The couch was large and comfortable though, so it didn't hurt to have slept on it. An overly large, ugly but very soft blanket made of mismatched crochet squares covered two figures, loosely embracing each other. From the dark wooden floor there came an insistent tap of hooves and the urgent grunting of a pink teacup piglet. 

"Your son is awake." A reedy but warm voice acknowledged when they could both hear the pig snuffling around.

"He'll be okay for a minute." A higher, less enunciated and somewhat scratchy voice answered. "I'll take him out in a bit, just lemme convince my body it's awake."

"I could wake it up for you." The first voice offered, and Angel shot upright as he felt fingers dig into his side.

"AL, NO!" Angel protested, getting up just to avoid being tickled.

Alastor laughed and sat up as well, but didn't follow. Instead he grabbed his glasses from the coffee table and went to the kitchen to start a late breakfast. Angel put on a pair of sweatpants to take Fat Nuggets outside. By the time he came back in there was bacon and waffles on the table, as well as a tray of berries and whipped cream and peanut butter chips to put on the waffles. Sugary, pale coffee set next to Angel's plate and a cup of black at Alastor's. Shamelessly, Alastor tossed a piece of bacon onto the floor for Nuggets to gobble up.

"You're sick. Don't feed him that!" Angel protested, holding back a laugh. 

"Pigs are opportunistic cannibals! He would do it anyway if he wasn't so spoiled by you." Alastor reasoned, too cheerful for having only woken up a few minutes ago. Morning people.

"By us." Angel corrected. "I don't give him table scraps." 

"Well you should. He loves it!"

Angel rolled his eyes and checked the calendar on his phone before sitting at the table and covering his waffles in fruit and cream and chocolate. He didn't have much planned for the day, just to model for some photography and do a bit of grocery shopping. Both could be done while Alastor was at work and Angel would still have plenty of time to listen to Alastor's show while he busied his hands with crochet or sewing. 

He'd been making a lot of squares lately, out of any yarn he thought looked nice. Eventually he would have enough to stitch together into some odd hybrid of an afghan and a quilt. It would be tacky and possibly hideous, the yarns looking pretty by themselves but clashing with each other, but Angel wanted to make it anyway. Something that was comfort over style, warm and soft and ugly as fuck. Besides, he was sure Alastor would love it when it was done. 

Pictures. Groceries. Home. Walk the pig again. Radio. Blanket. A simple day. Just like the day before, and honestly every day in Angel's recent memory. He had an easy job, an adorable pet, a loving...boyfriend? Husband?

Angel stilled his crochet hook, glancing at his left hand before smiling at the sight of his wedding band. Husband. Right. Why would he ever forget that? Angel didn't dwell on it, distracted by his husband's voice coming through the radio once an old jazzy song ended. 

"Should play some swing for me, babe." Angel joked, knowing Alastor couldn't hear him. 

Regardless, they seemed to be on the same page as the next song was indeed a fast paced swing that Angel couldn't remember the name of even though he was fairly sure Alastor had announced it. He blamed his short attention span and turned his in-progress square of firey marbled orange yarn around to get another line of it started. 

It was another hour or so when Alastor came home, leaning over to kiss Angel's bleached hair as he passed on the way to their master bathroom. Between Angel's modeling and dancing and Alastor's radio they could afford quite the nice one. The tub could fit them both, even, a fact which Angel considered making full use of when he heard the water start running. 

"I saw your mother on my way home." Alastor said when Angel joined him in the bathroom.

_God he missed his Ma,_ Angel thought briefly before wondering where that thought had come from. He had just seen her last week. Last month? Yesterday? When? Recently.

"Way to kill the mood, babe." Angel teased.

"There was a mood?" Alastor asked, snickering and changing the water to flow from the showerhead to the faucet, plugging the drain since it was clear Angel wanted to share the water. "She's invited us for dinner tomorrow."

"What's the occasion?" Angel wondered, sifting through a basket of sweetly scented bath fizzers, salts, bubble mixes, floral oils. Anything he could ever want, really. 

Alastor didn't answer, dropping his clothes and setting his glasses on the edge of the sink. There didn't need to be an occasion for Angel to see family. Sitting down to dinner with his father didn't have to be a chore. It never had been. His family had always been fine. Happy. He'd always been happy.

"I'm gonna bring a pie." Angel decided, tossing a red and white fizzer labeled 'strawberry shortcake' into the water just after Alastor sat in it. Angel followed him into the water, settling almost in his lap.

"Oh good. We can stop by the store on our way."

"Fuck you, we're gonna bake the pie ourselves." Angel snorted. "Think I'm gonna bring Ma some storebought shit, you're outta your mind."

He could feel Alastor laugh deep in his chest where his back rested against it. He didn't hear it though, and wondered what Alastor's real laugh sounded like. He didn't have time to think about it before he was distracted by Alastors nails scratching through his hair. He loved having his hair played with. 

"I'm out of my mind anyway, aren't I?" Alastor said softly against Angel's ear, and Angel turned to kiss him.

"Yeah but that's why I love you." Angel sighed, rolling over so he and Alastor were chest to chest. 

"I love you too." Alastor answered.

They spent a few hours basking in warm pink water that never got cold, sharing time and touch and sweet words that meant nothing in the moment but everything for the simple fact they were being said. It was enough. It was perfect. Angel was happy.

So very happy.

It didn't make sense...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is...off.

"Makin' a fuckin' mess." Angel couldn't help but laugh. 

He and Alastor were in their kitchen. One pie had become three; Strawberry, blueberry, and lemon. Primary colors so they could be mixed into anything, which didn't apply to food but had been too much of a prominent thought to resist doing. They were baking from scratch too, and flour coated the countertop, not that that stopped Alastor from hoisting Angel onto the counter once the pies were in the oven.

"I'll take care of it. Don't you fret." Alastor assured, slotting himself between Angel's legs so that they could be closer and if his hands wandered a bit, well, Angel welcomed that. 

It was surprisingly chaste for Angel. Things with Alastor always were. Touching and petting over clothes, leaving flour behind and giggling about it. Kissing in ways that always somehow felt like their first. Angel closed his eyes a moment as a bit of toothy attention was paid to his neck. When he opened them, the kitchen was clean.

_The kitchen was clean._

Angel didn't remember cleaning it. He knew he had cooked. The powdery handprint on his shirt was proof of that; He and Alastor had been fooling around in the flour because Angel wanted to make a pie for tomorrow. There should have been dishes in the sink. He was still sitting on the counter.

"There's no dishes?" Angel wondered aloud, confused. 

"I took care of them." Alastor said easily. "I told you I would."

"Oh, right." Angel nodded, but it wasn't alright. The pies had only just gone into the oven. There wasn't time to have done the dishes. He should have at least seen Alastor start them. Now that he was thinking of it, when was the last time either of them had actually done any housework?

"Dear, are you feeling unwell?" Alastor asked, full of concern as he rested the back of his hand on Angel's forehead.

There was still flour on it.

Angel jerked away, fear rising in his throat. He gripped Alastor's wrist, turning his hand over. The flour was dry. There were no dishes, and Alastor hadn't wet his hands to wash them. They hadn't moved away from each other.

"Perhaps you should lay down? There's still time to rest before your family is expecting us." Alastor suggested, "You're acting strange."

"The whole day's been strange," Angel snapped, then deflated as the pieces clicked into place. He didn't feel unwell. In fact he couldn't remember ever being sick, or sad, or angry. Instead there were holes in his memory and things he couldn't quite think about. "This isn't real…"

Alastor's head tilted inquisitively as he replied. "Why does it need to be real?"

Angel felt cold. Even though it had been his realization, the fact that the false Alastor confirmed it made it so much more troubling.

"Been in a fuckin fantasy." Angel sighed, dropping his face into his hands. 

"Yes." The fake nodded "Your ideal life. It's what you wished for! Aren't you happy?"

"I don't understand…" Angel said softly, sitting on the floor because he couldn't be bothered with pulling over a chair. Hadn't he just been on the counter? Another discrepancy. "What?" 

"You were redeemed!" The fake answered. "This is your Heaven, catered for you out of your memories and deepest wishes."

"That's bullshit." Angel huffed "And if you ain't Al, then who are you?" He needed to ask. 

He couldn't help but think if Heaven had conjured up such a perfect fantasy then maybe the figment was just Heaven pulling his ideal man out of his desires. He realized he couldn't remember how he met Alastor. Or, more accurately, his brain was providing too many memories of how they met and all of them felt off now that he was noticing. A thousand cute first meetings, a thousand cheesy first dates. A thousand charmingly fumbled wedding proposals. All perfect, but none correct. Maybe Alastor had never existed and that possibility stung but Angel needed to know.

"It's very simple,'' The false replied cheerfully "I'm the part of you that loves him."

So Alastor had been real at some point, but who was he? And the rest of it...

"Bullshit." Angel replied bitterly, remembering suddenly exactly what sadness felt like. "It's all fucking bullshit."

The fake Alastor was quiet a moment, taking the time to clean the flour from his hands. The sight was grounding in a way, but only marginally helped the fact Angel knew everything around him was a lie. 

"I don't remember how I died." Angel said, his voice cracking just as much as his world felt like it was. "If I'm in Heaven I had to have died, right?" 

"I'm sure you don't really want to remember." The figment said dismissively. "Why don't we go to bed and we can forget again? We can go back to being happy and we'll go see your mother tomorrow!"

Part of Angel wanted that. It would be so easy to go back to the dream. But he knew he would probably catch another discrepancy. Something would tip him off again. He got the distinct feeling that this wasn't even the first time and he'd just forgotten again like the false Alastor was requesting.

"I do." Angel decided, and the Alastor in front of him suddenly looked very different. "I need to remember." 

What had been a reasonably attractive but altogether plain looking man was no longer even a human at all. The shapes of the face were at least close enough to the same, though the smile had widened to accommodate large, sharp teeth. Red eyes matched hair that had only just been black. Warm brown skin had greyed out, darkening further toward the hands which were black with long bloodstained claws. He even had horns, though they were antlers instead of the small curled spikes Angel was used to seeing depicted on devils. Even the glasses changed, reducing into a monocle.

Strangely, Angel wasn't afraid at the sight. If anything it was somehow more familiar to him than the human version had been. Soothing, even. It did raise more questions, however. If this was meant to be Heaven, then why was the man across from him so clearly a demon?

"We met in Hell." Angel recalled abruptly and vividly. "God, I was in Hell…"

"Yes." The figment confirmed, then gestured to their surroundings. "You got out."

"Charlie's crazy plan actually worked." Angel chuckled coldly, realizing he could remember Charlie as the demon she really was instead of the girl he'd been imagining. He could even remember the day he had ascended, now that he was thinking about it. Charlie had squealed and cheered her congratulations, holding fast to Vaggie's arm. Husk had cursed in disbelief. Niffty, well… Niffty may not have known what was actually going on and Alastor…

Alastor hadn't actually outwardly reacted much but Angel thought that he had seen that permanent smile drop and just the briefest twitch of his arm. It was likely just shock at being proven wrong. He hadn't really reached out. Angel had to have misremembered that small detail. No doubt it was another trick of Heaven's. Alastor, the real Alastor, didn't care about him.

 **Well this was educational.** A new voice rang out, and everything around Angel shimmered and faded until he was in a sterile, blank room. 

"What the fuck? Where--?"

 **Language, frail one.** The voice scolded, and Angel looked up into a bright, colorful, spinning circular mass of eyes and wings. It was hard to listen to if not for the fact the voice was in his head, but even harder to look at. It was an angel, but not like the exterminating seraphs that visited Hell to cleanse it. This was an ophanim.

"God, I'm really in Heaven…" Angel murmured in awe.

 **Please stop invoking Him. He is very busy.** The ophanim said, mouthlessly.

"Right." Angel said quickly, trying to wrap his head around this even as his memories of his real life, his death, and Hell started to come back. "I'm sorry but who the fu-uhm. Heck? Is heck okay? Who the heck are you?" 

**My name is hard for your sort to pronounce.**

"What, human? Or… formerly human?"

**Anything with a mouth, really. It must be spoken through the hosselendivic spindle of a divine mind. Only other angels may voice it. And jellyfish, I suppose, if they felt so inclined.**

"Hossele-what. Okay." Angel shook his head, holding up his hands and noticing absently that he had four now, or again. Right, he'd been a spider for the past few decades. "I'm just gonna call you Hoss." 

**I suppose I'm not opposed to that.**

"So Heaven is just...dreaming?" Angel asked, feeling somehow cheated.

 **Wish fulfillment.** Hoss said, wings fluttering in an odd way that felt like a nod. **Not for all souls, but for ones like you who have been through so much. It's most effective to...cover up the bad in their lives. Replace the sour with sweet and provide them with what they truly want. Your desires are surprisingly simple. Love and family.**

"But it's _fake_." Angel sighed. 

**You resist happiness because it is unrealistic to you?** Hoss wondered, folding a few wings, tilting, and reopening them to spin the other way. The lights in the center of the wheel shifted into colors Angel had never even seen before, thoughtful before speaking again. **I understand now.**

Angel suddenly felt like he was falling. For a moment he thought he was being cast back into Hell and relief washed over him. He'd been lied to enough. He'd rather have an honest mess than cover up the garbage with gold. He'd rather have his friends. The relief was short-lived however, as he felt Hoss speak.

**Let's try again.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel is back in Hell. At least he's pretty sure he is.

Dazed, Angel vaguely registered rough asphalt digging into his knees and the red hue that tinted everything around him. A car horn went off loudly behind him, and he quickly scrabbled off of the road and onto the sidewalk. He had only narrowly avoided being roadmaimed, not that getting hit by a car was a permanent issue with demonic healing. That had happened the first time too, only that time the pink limo had slowed down and swerved rather than just honking and flooring it. Damn, did everyone get dropped into Hell naked and right in front of oncoming traffic?

Hell.

He was back. And he could see the sign of the Happy Hotel not far off. 

He was _home_.

Angel picked himself up and ran as fast as he could. He had so much to tell Charlie! So what if Heaven had given him the boot? He was still proof she could get a sinner up there in the first place. He burst in the door, no regard for his current lack of clothing since Husk got away with being nude constantly.

"Guess who came back, bitches!" He loudly called.

"Satan's sake, could you not have dressed yourself first!?" Alastor called even as Charlie was running to his four fuzzy arms.

"Husk is naked!" Angel retorted, laughing.

"I have a sheath." Husk grumbled.

"So do I, baby, there's just nothin' in it." Angel teased. "At least not right _now_." He said, making a show of winking at Alastor. He needed a rejection. He needed to know this was real.

Alastor rolled his eyes and decided to leave the room entirely at that and Charlie thought better of hugging her tall naked friend. Vaggie, ever the problem solver, had enough sense to bring a robe for Angel to cover himself with.

"Thanks, toots." Angel said as he pulled the robe on. It was a bit short but at least he was no longer showing his ass.

"How are you back?" Charlie asked, and Angel shrugged. “You didn’t get kicked out, did you?”

"Guess I missed you guys too much." Angel answered. "I wanted to come back, don't worry."

"What was Heaven like?" Vaggie asked.

Angel's mind was flooded with memories of the happy and domestic life he'd been vividly experiencing. His own little pocket space where he hadn't even known he was dead. Nothing bad could touch him and he'd been so happily married. He was going to have a hard time looking Alastor in the eye, he realized. It was a lot to unpack and he really wasn't ready to do that yet. He was still deciding whether or not he regretted walking away.

"Kinda fuckin' boring." Angel answered instead of telling her the whole truth, which was hard for him to focus on anyway now that he was trying. 

A new set of arms suddenly came around him from behind, latching onto his shoulders and forcing him to step back with one foot to compensate for the extra weight.

"What did you come back for, jackass? I've been clean for a month trying to follow you up!" A rough voice teased.

"Cherri!" Angel brightened, twisting to bring his friend around to his front so he could hug her back. "You have _not_ been clean. I can smell you."

"Bitch."

"Slut." 

"Hothead."

"Cumdump."

"Okay!" Charlie interjected, not wanting the playful insults to go too far. She knew given enough time the spider and cyclops would start getting creative with it and no one's ears needed to hear the things they could come up with. "Enough of that. Angel, did you want to check in again?"

"Well…" Angel pondered. He'd gotten into Heaven, which was the Hotel's goal. He didn't really want to go back now that he'd seen it and left. "Ain't that kinda pointless now?"

"You could still help." Vaggie suggested quietly. "If you wanted."

An invitation if Angel ever heard one.

"Yeah, sure. Place to stay and a paycheck? I'm down." Angel agreed. "Got a cute little maid outfit somewhere, if you gals didn't toss all my shit out as soon as I was gone." 

"I stole some of your stuff." Cherri admitted. “For safekeeping, you know?”

"The rest is in storage!" Charlie chirped.

"Nuggs is in my room if you want him back." Cherri added.

"How dare you. Of course I want my baby back." Angel snorted, leaving to bolt up the stairs despite the fact he had no idea which was Cherri's yet. "Daddy's back! Where's my Fat Nuggets?"

Nuggets didn't disappoint, squealing and scratching at a door with his hooves. The noise let Angel know exactly where his pig was. Finding the door, he jiggled the handle. It was locked but he knew Cherri would forgive a little property damage and if Charlie had an issue with it he knew Alastor could fix it in a literal snap. 

"Bang bang, baby." Angel called, hearing Nuggets quiet as it was an understood order for Nuggets to hide himself out of harm's way. He waited a moment, making sure Nuggets had time to move before kicking the door in.

Nuggets was obediently under the corner of Cherri's workdesk, but came out with a happy squall as he saw his proper owner. Angel knelt down, mindful of the splintered wood to let the pig run into his arms.

"The fuck did you do to my door?" Cherri called when she saw the mess, her tone lighter than the words. "I'd've given you the key, asshole!" 

"Couldn't wait. My baby was callin' me." Angel reasoned playfully. 

"You just wanted to break shit." Cherri accused, but it was clear in her tone she wholeheartedly approved.

"I wanted to break _your_ shit." Angel clarified. "Because I love you. You fucking bitch."

Cherri snorted, rolled her eye, and punched Angel's lower shoulder. 

The rest of the day passed with Angel settling back into his old room. He was given plenty of space to do so, a fact mandated by Vaggie who understood he had been out of Hell for a while and would need to readjust. He hadn’t asked but was still grateful for her intuition. He’d been gone for… He couldn’t even tell. It could have been a few weeks, it could have been years. When he thought of his time in Heaven felt like it overlapped and there were parts missing. They may not have actually been missing and had just never happened but the more he tried to remember details the less he could keep a hold of. He told Charlie about it when he felt up to talking about it.

"I remember bits and pieces but it's like it all was happenin' at once and then other shit's just...gone."

“Well, maybe Heaven doesn’t want people in other places to know how it works?” Charlie wondered. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Angel accepted. It wasn’t like he had a better explanation.

“What can you remember?” Charlie prompted, her tone trying to be professional but not hiding the fact she was extremely curious. 

“I don’t know…” Angel sighed. “I think they fixed my life? Not really but they took all the bad shit out and replaced it. My dad wasn’t an ass. My ma wasn’t dead. Arch-Arackniss didn’t have to pretend he didn’t resent me and Molly because he had to be the one takin’ care of us and…” Absently, he realised he’d been fidgeting with his upper left ring finger and feeling it strangely bare even though it always had been. “Shit, I think I got married.”

“Oh? To who?” Charlie asked innocently.

_Alastor…_

Angel was glad his fur hid the conventional blush on his face, but he felt his fur fluff up anyway. He folded his arms and crossed his legs, leaning away from her. “I don’t fuckin’ know. I think I just had a man made up for me.”

“That’s not so bad.” Charlie said sweetly. "He must have been nice."

“Are you kiddin’?” Angel said, laughing off how pathetic he suddenly felt. That was a good thing. He needed the negative emotions. Every little bad thing would remind him he wasn’t stuck in his head. This was real. This was Hell. “It was great. A real guy wouldn’t have put up with my high maintenance ass for so long without nagging.”

“You must miss him.” Charlie sympathized, able to see right through Angel’s bullshit even if she didn’t quite know what she was looking at.

How could he miss him? Alastor was probably walking the halls right now, having a chat with the shadows and well within reach. Angel could find him and talk to him at any time with the other man completely oblivious of Angel’s longstanding crush and subsequent fantasy that had heavily featured the cannibal.

“Yeah…” Angel’s mouth agreed before his brain could stop it. “Welp! I haven’t had a real drink in however the fuck long I’ve been gone so I’m gonna go bother Husky.”

Luck was odd, and Angel couldn't tell if it was good or bad luck that Alastor was at the bar when he made his way there. He and Husker were having a conversation, or more accurately Husk was tolerating being chattered at by the Radio Demon. Angel sat down, leaving a buffer stool of space.

"Not too good for us lowly sinners, I see!" Alastor greeted brightly. 

"Oh I am." Angel shot back. "Lucky you, I like slummin'." 

Alastor laughed. The fake one. Everytime Angel had heard Alastor laugh it was the fake showy noise he was making now. Angel was used to it, but in this moment he hated it. Hated the fact his mind hadn't had anything to go off of to emulate genuine laughter, just the motion of it and silence. Paired with that was the fact that Husk had a sink on his side of the bar and it was worryingly empty. _He had to make sure._

Before fully thinking it through, Angel took Alastor's glass which was almost empty anyway and shoved it into the sink where it shattered loudly. Alastor's ambience screeched like a particularly badly scratched record and Husk's ears folded back as he hissed.

"The fuck is your problem?" The cat grumbled, fishing the shards out with his claws to throw away.

"Are you feeling well?" Alastor asked, and that made it all the worse.

"I'm sorry," Angel said quickly. "I just… I gotta go." 

Angel didn't bother getting a drink of his own, thinking better of it now, and quickly fled to his recently refurbished room. In his haste to retreat, he didn't notice Alastor stand to follow him.


	4. Chapter 4

Almost as soon as Angel shut his bedroom door he couldn't help but notice that everything was the same as before he left. He and Cherri had arranged it that way, so it shouldn't have bothered him so much. Still it didn't help with his stress.

Stress. 

_Just focus on the stress,_ he told himself even as he tried to breathe to calm himself down in a paradoxical attempt to establish to himself that he was fine as long as he wasn't. Before he could level himself out, there was a knock at the door.

"Motherfucker!" Angel said through grit teeth as he turned to open the door.

It was Alastor.

Angel shut the door in his face. He couldn't look at Alastor right now. It was too much. He needed to put some mental space between them or he just knew something would slip. A pet name more than the usual standard ones he gave to everyone out of reflex. Reaching for his hand. The urge to kiss him had already risen just from making eye contact and Angel didn't trust himself not to act on it. He always did have such poor impulse control.

Alastor opened the door, either because it wasn't locked or because Alastor was powerful enough to do whatever the literal Hell he wanted. Angel scowled, looking to the wall instead of the opening door as Alastor let himself in and shut it behind him.

"I really must insist we talk." Alastor said, softer than his voice usually was. 

"Don't do that." Angel snapped at him, not willing to let himself give in to the wave of calm that soft voice put over him.

"Do what?" Alastor asked, seeming genuinely confused.

"Don't talk to me like you give a shit." Angel huffed, trying to hold on to anger but falling short and dipping into despair instead. 

"I don't know what's gotten into you." Alastor sighed. "I understand coming back must feel like quite the shock but you chose this."

Angel finally met Alastor's eyes, simultaneously expecting and surprised at the concern there. His resolve to distance himself crumbled. He dropped his head, feeling tears welling but unwilling to let them show.

"I can't fuckin' look at you." He admitted meekly. "You wouldn't get it. Please just get out." 

A warm hand rested on his shoulder, red claws catching his peripheral. They dug in slightly, not hard but enough to not be ignored as they steered Angel to sit at the edge of his own bed. Alastor then let go, taking the stool at the vanity for himself.

"Did I do something to anger you?" Alastor asked, soft and wholly unexpected.

"What?" Angel asked.

"You shoved my drink off of the bar and now you say you can't look at me." Alastor clarified. "I would say that's a spiteful aggression, wouldn't you agree?"

"I'm not mad at you." Angel sighed. "The sink on Husk's side was empty and I panicked." He explained although he knew without context it didn't make sense.

Regardless, Alastor rolled with it without questioning the odd logic. He just went onto the second issue. "And you can't look at me because…?" He asked, tilting his head with both ears forward. At Angel's lack of an answer, Alastor's ambience played the sound of crickets before he continued speaking. "Come now, old boy, you couldn't keep your eyes off me before Heaven spirited you away and now you're suddenly skittish? Shameful? After witnessing Heaven is my sinful form really so disgusting to you?"

"The fuck you care if I look at you or not?!" Angel lashed, looking up finally as his tears escaped. Damn it. He couldn't hold it in anymore, the dam broken. 

Nuggets noticed and squirmed from where he'd been sleeping at the corner of the bed onto Angel's lap. Angel patted him gratefully, trying to keep himself under control but failing. Alastor watched, quiet and blatantly confused as he realized there was more to this than he had been assuming.

"What wouldn't I get?" Alastor asked.

"It doesn't--"Angel started, choking on his words somewhat before trying again. "Fuck, it doesn't matter. It wasn't real."

"It seems to matter a great deal to you to affect you so, regardless of the unreality." Alastor pointed out, displaying one of the qualities that Angel found endearing from the very beginning; A gift with words. "And so far you've made it clear that it involves me in some way. I'm curious!"

"Okay." Angel sighed, wiping his eyes and trying futilely to get the tears to stop. "While I was in Heaven I had my whole family with me. Had all my friends and you were…" He trailed off. He couldn't finish that sentence honestly. Not to Alastor's face. "Well we're friends so of course you were there too." He covered. 

"I appreciate that you consider me a friend." Alastor said, sounding honestly genuine. "Though I still don't understand why my presence bothers you more than the others. Usually you're the only one who isn't bothered by me in some sense. That was always refreshing." It sounded like an admission of a sort, not something that Alastor would tell just anyone.

"You still don't bother me." Angel stated lightly. "It's just that I remember all this fun shit we did and you don't 'cause you weren't really there. All of it was just me talkin' to myself with some extra glamor."

"If that were really the case you would be just as avoidant of Cherri." Alastor pointed out and Angel internally cursed the other man's observant intelligence.

Angel didn't have a good response for that, but Alastor took it as an invitation to study Angel's answers so far and reluctance to say anything straightforwardly. Angel had begun to fidget with his fingers idly again without realizing, and that was what Alastor noticed the most.

"I think I see," Alastor said softly, leaning and taking one of Angel's hands in his own. "I wasn't aware you felt so strongly."

Not a rejection. Not a reciprocation either. Neutral enough that Angel believed it without being hurt by it. Almost, at least.

"I flirt at you constantly, Smiles." Angel pointed out.

"Yes," Alastor agreed. "You also flirt with Husker, and Baxter, and that one snake demon I can't recall the name of." Alastor reasoned. "And for some infernal reason, Charlie's father the one time he deigned it worth his time to visit."

"It's how I say hello." Angel joked.

Alastor chuckled. It was silent. Angel frowned. It was less world-shattering this time, and Angel only felt angry. "Still can't make that up, can I?"

Alastor cocked his head, confusion furrowing his brow. He was still on the vanity stool but Angel didn't remember seeing him roll it closer to the bed where they were still holding hands on Angel's lap. His lap that should have had a pig in it, but Nuggets was back in his corner where he was sleeping before. Angel snatched his hands back. 

"Credit where it's due, you almost had me with this one Hoss." Angel snarled.

**Pity.** Hoss said, and Angel was back in the white room with the ophanim and far too much clarity. **Why must you fight your own joy so hard?**

"Just put me back in Hell." Angel said, weary of feeling toyed with. "I think we both know it's where I belong."

**You've been away for a long time.** Hoss warned. **Things have changed in your absence.**

"I'll adjust." Angel huffed, and the feeling of falling took over again.

**We shall see.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gets worse before it gets better. Also look up 'babirusa'. Its an interesting species!

Angel hit asphalt. A car almost hit him. Pretty standard drop into Hell, although the scenery was different from what he was used to. The car that nearly hit him, if it could even still be called such, was more of a pod that had sped along on no visible wheels. It hadn't slowed or honked, not acknowledging Angel in the slightest and if it had hit him Angel wasn't sure if it would have actually hurt given how sleek and round the thing was. He might have just rolled right off with no real damage.

Like before, he looked around for the Hotel's sign. He didn't see it, the view on all sides blocked by skyscrapers much taller than the buildings before. That was okay, Angel knew about where the Hotel should be. 

"Better be real this time, Hoss." Angel muttered under his breath as he started walking.

All around him was technology that was new and confusing even at a glance. Buildings were tall, and had pointed architecture that looked precarious at best but was still holding fast somehow and Angel wondered if some magical sort of superglue had been invented to hold everything together. Above sidewalks and over roads there with tunnelled bridges to connect buildings. Vehicles all looked a bit like the first one he had seen. Troublingly, everything Angel looked at had Vox's simplified but similar enough to recognize logo. 

How long had he been gone?

The Happy Hotel had either been rebranded, moved, or was altogether gone because in its place was a failed western attempt of a capsule motel. The sort of place that had room for a bed, a toilet, and a shower cubicle with no space in between. Not at all what he had left behind, but he still took the time to ask the imp woman at the front desk about what was supposed to be here.

"The Happy Hotel? You could try the Lust district sweetie, they might have something there like that for you." The imp answered, and she clearly didn't even recognize him. So much for fame.

"No, it was like a rehab type place." Angel clarified. "It used to be here." 

"I don't know what to tell you." She shrugged. "Now do you need a room or not?" 

Angel was not spending a night in what felt like a mockery of his home. Also inflation on prices had gotten ridiculous when he glanced at room rates and he didn't have any money with it being his first day back in Hell. He declined, thanked her, and went on his way. 

At least street names and structure was mostly unchanged, and Angel followed one as he wondered about what he should do next. The Hotel wasn't an option apparently, and he didn't know where his friends would even be if not there. He knew he should check on Cherri's territory, but part of him was afraid she wouldn't be there. Regardless his feet took him in that direction and he took note of the increase of abandoned buildings. 

While the heart of Pentagram City was a shiny bright example of the future, there were still spaces that were broken down and raggedy. It was a small comfort so see that at least hadn't changed. The rich would keep their space spotless and shove their garbage to smother the poor, which sucked but at least it was familiar. He had to avoid shattered glass and loose gravel, his feet not used to being exposed. Hell's version of vermin, caricatures of rats and roaches and scavenging birds scuttled away when Angel stepped too close. It didn't deter him. 

Cherri's home was gone too. Angel knew that didn't necessarily mean she was gone, but who knew where she was. He felt suddenly hopeless, but resolved to keep trying. Everyone couldn't just be gone. Vox was clearly around, his influence everywhere and impossible to ignore. Charlie would be alive, being Lucifer's kid even if she wasn't where Angel thought she would be and he was sure she and Vaggie would still be together. He just had to find Charlie and the rest would come easy. For now, he had to take care of himself. He would adjust, just like he said he would. 

First order of business was clothes and money, easy enough. Mugging someone was almost a rite of passage in Hell, and this wasn't nearly Angel's first rodeo. The fact he could still conjure guns helped, but luckily the mantis demon Angel found understood whether he lived or died for a few hours, Angel would still be leaving the encounter with his trousers, trenchcoat, and the meager bit of cash that was in his wallet. Needless to say, the mantis preferred to stay conscious and Angel didn't actually have to shoot the poor bug.

Angel left the encounter with both a thanks and an apology leaving his mouth, Charlie's lessons on manners sticking even through the bad behavior. It wasn't actually bad if it was just survival, Angel tried to tell himself, but found it was starting to matter less. Oh well. At least he was clothed and could afford a small meal when he eventually needed one. 

He continued onward through the worse part of an already inherently bad town, rooting through garbage bins to see what else he could find of use. There were other demons doing the same, not that Angel paid them any mind. None of them talked to each other, though there were a few scuffles over particularly well-conditioned items. 

Angel himself didn't find much. Just half of a crushed pack of cigarettes and an ugly yarn quilt that seemed like it had only been thrown out because it had a tear in it. It would do for something to sleep on for the night, he figured, and so he took it with him on his way to find somewhere to camp out. 

Inside an overturned, broken and abandoned cement mixer had seemed like a good place to hide in order to sleep at the time, but Angel was roughly woken by a large snout pressing against his back anyway.

"I ain't free." Angel grumbled, irritated at being disturbed before he realized the thing trying to join him in the cement mixer wasn't a demon but instead a large animal at least the size of a bear.

Angel bolted upright, hitting his head in the small space. He grunted in pain and tried shoving the animal away. It was too dark to see well but the beast had glowing eyes and spots along its side that made the rest of the shadowed shape hard to tell just what it was. The grunting and snuffling was a tell though, plainly piggish. 

A hellboar. 

Most demons would have been afraid of a wild hellboar suddenly invading their space, but past the spearish horns and curled tusks Angel could recognize the curious and sweet eyes. They recognized him right back.

"Oh my god, Nuggies you got so big!" Angel said, shocked to see the drastic change when to his perception his pig had just been a small and squishy baby. He hadn't dared to hope he'd see Fat Nuggets, but here he was! Angel had to watch the tusks and horns as he hugged the boar, and got a horrendously happy squall in response. 

Nuggets clearly had more than just a reunion in mind though, as the pig tugged insistently at the blanket Angel was seated on, halfway dragging Angel out of the mixer with it. Angel stumbled but crawled out, letting Nuggets take the blanket and following when the boar started trotting away. 

Of all places, Angel hadn't expected Nuggets to lead him right to the Radio Tower, old and worn but still standing. The door of the squat little building under it was ajar, and Nuggets pushed it further to let himself and Angel in. The first room was in clear ruin, and the window to the recording booth was cracked and too dirty to see clearly through. Wires and cables were strung throughout the place, some of the casings torn and they looked as if they would be sparking if not for the fact they were so very old. 

"There you are… old friend… What have you brought me now?" A familiar, but hoarser voice called quietly, static cutting through the low buzz of dead air.

Nuggets let himself into the recording room, and something other than the door creaked. Angel stepped in just in time to see his pig deposit the blanket in front of the back wall of the booth where a clawed hand reached to pick it up.

Alastor was here, worse for wear. He didn't seem to notice Angel, patting the pig roughly like he couldn't control his hands enough to be gentle despite a clear frailty. Several wires were feeding into his spine, supporting him but locking him to the wall. His skin was greyer than its typical sepia, and the red of his hair and claws had dulled. He looked washed out and dusty and chipping away like old radios would if left without maintenance for too long. Angel could barely look at him before, but now he couldn't look away. 

"Not winter yet… Silly boy." Alastor croaked to Nuggets, who didn't seem to be bothered by the rough treatment, before finally looking up at Angel who was still shocked into silence. "A guest… Do I know you?"

If everything else had been a dream, this was a nightmare. It had to be another trick. Angel screamed for Hoss to wake him up again, but got no answer. He didn't wake up. The only answer he got, was Alastor's weak voice.

"Oh...Angel. That's right… I remember…" Alastor said softly when Angel had ceased his shouting to sit on the floor in front of Alastor with the pig and the blanket, noticing when Alastor spoke he could see even more wires worked into his neck and jaw. "I remember...your voice..." 

"What happened?" Angel asked, dreading the answer but desperately needing context.

"The Hotel… was a joke...You left." Alastor answered, resigned. "And the joke wasn't...funny anymore...I suppose…" 

Angel shook his head. He didn't believe it. He didn't want to believe his absence had such an impact. Even if it did he wasn't sure how it could have brought Alastor this low.

"How long was I gone?" Angel asked. 

"I'm not sure." Alastor admitted. "Centuries...I think…" 

It was too much. "This can't be real." Angel murmured, covering his eyes with his hands. "This isn't real. Hoss!" He called again, futilely.

Nothing changed.


	6. Chapter 6

Angel learned, partly from Alastor himself and partly from various newspapers strewn across the Radio Tower that his ascendance definitely impacted Hell in a few very important ways. Firstly, if had gotten Lucifer involved with the Hotel. Specifically, Lucifer had tried to have it demolished. Charlie, of course, wouldn't stand for that. She had proven her theory true and wasn't going to just stop trying after she had _succeeded_. 

Charlie wanted to get more demons to heaven. Lucifer demanded they stay put. Lilith withheld her opinion at first but eventually sided with Charlie which caused both a divorce and a Ring-Wide war. Alastor opted not to get involved, preferring to spectate. He had left the Hotel after Charlie proved him wrong, no longer finding it fun, but the war had quelled his boredom for a few years at least. 

Charlie usurped Lucifer, but since she was technically the antichrist this was not actually a good thing. Hell was still Hell and Heaven was still Heaven but Earth had to deal with the onset of an apocalypse that only a few humans were actually taking notice of since they had already been in a bad way even before the shift in Hell's hierarchy had occurred.

Unfortunately technology continued to evolve without Alastor, leaving him behind as a relic. Who needed a radio when all the music, news, and stories anyone could want was all on the sinternet? Without the circulation of activity from other sinners and the lack of motivation stagnation caused, Alastor had found his metaphorical and somewhat literal battery running low until he eventually couldn't run on it at all. Hence the reason the once fearsome Radio Demon was now tethered to his Tower. Wireless energy just wasn't accessible to him anymore. 

Fat Nuggets had been a blessing. After Angel was gone Cherri had tried to take him, but the pig insisted on following Alastor around. After Alastor left the Hotel, Nuggets would escape just to find him, and Alastor found the pig to be pleasant enough company. As Nuggets grew and Alastor weakened, the pig even began venturing away to bring Alastor food and tools and other things that could be useful. 

"Glad I didn't…eat him…" Alastor chuckled weakly, hoarse and wheezy and _wrong_ but Angel could hear it this time. "He's such a...helpful thing." 

"Why didn't you?" Angel wondered.

"He was too...small. I thought I should...let him grow…" Alastor answered, shrugging. Angel could almost hear his bones shift together as he did, and winced. "Then...I got attached…"

"Yeah," Angel tried to smile. "Nuggs'll put on those watery piggy eyes and you get snared." 

"I also owed...a friend a favor…" Alastor added.

Angel's smile became genuine at that. He was surprised Alastor remembered that. Angel thought it had been a throwaway joke at the time, at least on Alastor's part. Alastor had been cornered by an old, clearly one-sided flame, and Angel had simply been in the right place at the right time for Alastor to politely defuse the situation without any hurt feelings from anyone. 

Alastor got out of an awkward situation, the lady thought Alastor was gay and therefore didn't feel the rejection as a personal affront, and Angel got to hold onto Alastor's arm for almost a full minute without being pushed away. 

_"Thank you, Angel."_ Alastor had said at the time after the lady had gone and Angel removed his hand from the other's arm. _"I owe you one for this, I really do!"_

Angel hadn't ever intended to cash in on that favor. He hadn't taken Alastor's word as serious at the time. Still it was a nice memory and it had unfortunately only stirred up feelings he hadn't quite been ready to deal with at the time. It was also the start of many pleasant daydreams of what-if scenarios, no doubt what his first draft of Heaven was built on. Why hadn't he been happy with that? Why couldn't he have just stayed and stopped questioning the little errors?

Angel shook his head. He had asked for reality and this was the sad truth of it. No polished gold plating here, just rocks. He signed up for this, he could try to roll with it. Besides, Alastor clearly needed help and someone he could actually hold a conversation with. Angel stood, deciding on a purpose to keep him busy for now, and left the recording booth.

"Where are you going?" Alastor called after him.

"I'm gonna clean up your shack-ass house." Angel answered. "Fuckin' pig sty in here." 

Nuggets grunted an offense, and Alastor laughed. A proper stage-laugh, or at least an attempt at one. _Good,_ Angel thought, _No giving up yet._ He took off the trenchcoat, knowing he would overheat if he kept it on during any form of manual labor, and began by chucking anything that was clearly garbage out the open front door. 

It took a week for the station to be in decent shape, and Angel had gone out a few times to do a bit of freelance work revisiting his old profession. It had been so long he had faded from public memory and counted as a fresh face. He had to be careful, seeing enough signs to know Valentino was still around and knowing from before that the moth didn't like the fact there were working boys and girls and whatevers that he didn't own. Still, it was an income, and it let Angel be able to afford to get new, stronger, much longer wires for Alastor.

Alastor was dubious, but grateful he no longer had to stick quite so close to the one back wall. He could almost move freely now, as long as he stayed in the building and didn't close the door to the booth. He had to rely heavily on his cane to stay mostly upright, but at least he didn't look quite so much like a marionette. Angel was glad to see the other begin to regain his coloring. Not quite sepia and scarlet, but he hoped they would get there.

"You don't have to take care of me." Alastor protested, able to form full sentences without being too short of breath. "I'm a fully grown-and-died adult."

They were both sitting on the ugly blanket, Angel not having the heart to throw it away and Alastor finding it a welcome change from concrete flooring. Alastor was leaned forward as Angel was gingerly cleaning the spaces where the cords breached skin.

"I'll let you take care of yourself when you prove you can reach between your own shoulderblades." Angel returned, busy checking the wires in Alastor's back to make sure none were coming loose. Alastor reached up and back, but couldn't quite get his hand to where Angel was working on him. 

"I did it myself the first time." He said, and Angel could have sworn Alastor was pouting.

"Sure you did, Smiles." Angel chuckled. "Bet'cha that was why you kept shortin' out every four words."

They could joke about it now that Alastor was doing better. On good days, at least. Some days Alastor's health would plummet, but those were noticeably fewer than they had been. Angel hoped that meant his improvised brand of technomagical medicine was working.

When Angel went out, he kept an eye out for anything that even looked like it might have a radio function. There were none in public spaces, but Hell's population didn't really put much stock in recycling so Angel made regular trips to the city dump. It took literal digging but he had found a few radios, car stereos, and one home karaoke machine that was old enough to have a tape deck built into it. Angel brought them back to the station any time he found one that still functioned. All they played was static, because Alastor's Tower had nothing to broadcast, but Angel made sure they were all on at all times.

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of playing with an idea about how heaven might work since i'm blocked with other shit. The idea wouldn't leave me alone.


End file.
